


About Blackwall... I Mean, Rainier

by oOAchilliaOo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 17:49:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOAchilliaOo/pseuds/oOAchilliaOo
Summary: When Evelyn discovers Blackwall’s deception she doesn’t know what to think. Fortunately there’s someone at the prison to provide a distraction.





	

“We can explore our options back at Skyhold. You don’t have to decide anything right now.” 

Cullen seemed to have more to say, but he didn’t continue talking. She merely nodded in reply, glancing down at the report on Thom Rainier she still held in her fingers. The one signed by Leliana. She frowned.

“Why were you the one to bring this to me?” she asked, indicating the report. “Is Leliana all right?”

He half smiled at her, warm and soft even as his eyes skittered away from hers in embarrassment. 

“I ah… thought you might need some comfort,” he replied. “It cannot be easy being betrayed by a friend.” 

His light brown eyes shyly met her own, concern etched on his features. So caring, so sweet. Had they been alone she would probably have launched herself into his arms but, conscious of the guards’ presence just beside her, she settled for reaching out and squeezing his arm. 

“Thank you,” she said, hoping he could read the sincerity in her eyes. 

He smiled at her once again, peeling her hand from his bicep and raising it to his lips. “You’re welcome my lady.” He bestowed a single light kiss on her knuckles before releasing her hand with some reluctance. “Would you care for some lunch before we depart? Leliana informs me the café outside is a particular favourite of hers.”

“Sounds lovely.” She folded the report and tucked it into her coat before linking her arm with his and steering them from the prison. 

The bright sunlight outside served to cheer her mood at little after the gloominess of the prison, and by the time they reached the café she was feeling somewhat better. 

The maître d' greeted them in a thick Orlesian accent as they approached. “Ah, Inquisitor! Such an honour to welcome you to our humble café.” 

“Thank you,” she replied politely. “Can you accommodate two for lunch?” 

“Preferably somewhere under the shade?” Cullen grumbled good-naturedly beside her. 

She resisted the urge to laugh as the maître d' showed them to a table in the corner but she couldn’t stop herself from shooting him an amused look. 

“You know,” she remarked casually once the maître d’ had departed. “You probably don’t need the heavy, fur-lined, overly Ferelden-esque coat in sunny Val-Royeaux.” 

“And walk the street unprotected? No thanks.” His tone was still gruff but a smile twitched the corner of his mouth. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Afraid of hidden daggers?” 

He shrugged, and then shuddered melodramatically. “Orlesian noblewomen. As far as they’re concerned, the more layers the better.” 

She laughed, remembering his (adorable) discomfort in Halamshiral and the ladies whom she hadn’t been able to blame in the slightest. After all, she had been just as guilty as they before she’d known that he returned her interest. 

“But aren’t you unbearably hot?” 

“I am comfortable enough,” he reassured her. “I’d be better if there were something vaguely resembling food on this menu. Es… Escar… Got… Escargot?” He stumbled over the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word. “What’s that?” 

“Snails,” she replied, lips twitching at the frankly horrified expression that appeared on his face. “They’re nice!” 

“I will pass, thank you. I’d much rather have an ordinary beef stew… But it looks as though I’m out of luck.” 

“Just a little.” She scanned the list of fancy entrées and salads. “Perhaps we should just have some coffee and pastries and eat properly back at Skyhold?” 

He shot her a grateful look over his menu and nodded his agreement. She chuckled and called the waiter over to give him their order. 

When he departed, Cullen’s face darkened and he leant forwards, bracing his arms against the table. “So, Blackwall isn’t Blackwall it seems.” 

She wanted to ignore him, relaxing back into her own chair to enjoy the feeling of the sun on her face. It felt like it had been so long since she’d had a moment just to rest, to be herself and not the Inquisitor. For a moment, laughing with Cullen, she’d quite forgotten the reason for their sojourn to Val Royeaux. 

But she couldn’t deny the situation forever.

“So it seems,” she replied, vaguely casting her gaze about the café. Anywhere but his face. The weight of his eyes on her was practically palpable, and finally she had no choice but to turn her head to meet them. 

“How do you feel about it?”

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but falling far short. 

“Right now I don’t know what to think. I thought he was an honourable man. A hero. But he lied to me. Betrayed me.” She paused, idly picking up the salt shaker and twisting it in her hands. “Then he owned up to it. Sacrificed everything to save an innocent man. Does that make him an honourable man who made a mistake? Or a dishonourable one who did one thing right? I don’t know.” She was rambling, she knew, and shot him an apologetic smile, replacing the shaker in its stand. “What I do know, is that I want it to be us who judge him in the end.” 

He nodded. “We’ve earned that much.” 

She studied him for a moment. He was being extraordinarily vague and, despite his questions, had yet to voice his own opinion on the matter. 

“What would you do?” She asked him again, hoping to learn something of his thoughts. 

“I… I would prefer not to say.” 

She frowned. It was unusual of him not to share his thoughts with her, and it made her afraid that he was hiding something. Did he just want to execute the man and be done with it?

“No! Maker no. Not like that,” he clarified, reading her expression correctly, it seemed. “I’ve been in the same position as Blackw… Rainier’s men. I would not have my own experiences and prejudices affect your decision in this matter.”

Realisation suddenly dawned on her. “You’re talking about Meredith.” 

A pained expression immediately fell across his features, but he didn’t shy away from the topic.

“Meredith hid things from me. Told me only what she wished me to know, specifically, the things that would encourage my hatred. She knew that I respected and trusted the chain of command. Perhaps too much. She was not above using that against me.” 

His gaze moved off into the distance for a moment, as if lost in memory, and she wanted to reach out for him. Then he blinked, shaking himself out of his trance.

“As I said. I’m not proud of the man I was back then, and though I cannot lay the blame entirely at Meredith’s feet, she did not aid matters.” 

He shot her a sad half smile and she couldn’t resist any longer. Impulsively she stretched across the table, linking her fingers with his own and squeezing them gently. His smile grew a little warmer as he squeezed her fingers in return before they were forced to release their hold on each other by the waiter’s return. 

“Your pastries,” he said, placing the silver cake stand on their table with exaggerated care. 

She thanked him, barely waiting for him to leave before she grabbed one of the delicious little cakes. Cullen laughed, no doubt at her enthusiasm. 

“Let’s forget about Blackwa... Rainier for the moment, shall we? Nothing more needs to be said or decided till we return to Skyhold.”

Her face lit up with a grateful smile. “Till Skyhold.”


End file.
